The|MULTIVERSE

Universe Aelii

Nenva Cluster: Aiakha Realm

Divindale fell under siege. It wasn't too long after the abduction of Yuka—that scrumptious looking wood elf last seen in Moondrop falls bagged up by Rixxa—when the forest of harmony entered into an explosive forest romp. Bushfiends took over the forest, sinister devils of shrubby resentment who kissed the feet of the Wicked Wood Mother, Mertta of the Wayward Wood. The moment Yuka's presence was snatched from Divindale, the fiends moved in fast, destroying everything in their path.

And behind them, their eviction notice.

A thundering mass of crazy explosions rattled the enchanted wood like jungle warfare. If one observed from Divindale's cliffs, smoky geysers heaved into the air like a powerful, 'cartoony', sneeze above the sunbaked trees—cloudy poofs of mad hilarity. With it, the wild and unnatural squeals of crazed critters screeched hysterically through the war zone. Desperate to evade the calamity that was an all out turmoil that none of them expected.

Now that the Grove Mother, Yuka, was kidnapped by Rixxa, Divindale faced an invasion by the unwanted. As stated, it was the bushfiends of The Wayward Wood that plagued the healthy thickets, squadded up and infesting the forest with their desecrating malcontent. Their terror thick as monstrous thieves, stealing the beauty that was Divindale with an unending barrage of tyranny. While it seemed sensible to believe that it was the fiends guilty for the chaos of explosions across the forest; how they sundered trees and scorched the earth with their fumigating flames of evil, they weren't fully to blame.

No. The bushfiends were all to blame. They hauled ass through the forest in pure panic, for something hunted them all, promising a doom that cannot be protested.

The tables turned quicker than quick on this day.

One unfortunate bushfiend found himself the unlucky fool of the perilous pack. He was a creature of molten bark, black as soot, and his harrowing eyes that burned an evil ember orange expanded with fear. Yes, fear found an unlikely home inside his hollowed sockets, and he seemed to have lost its way during its pulse-pounded scramble.

His scraggly feet carried him through the forest in manic speed; a runner of miles this day he was. He yelped like a startled sissy and huffed harsh from his dreaded mouth. Those cursed lungs near-failed him so, but his feet denied reprieve, or risk losing its head to whatever pursued.

And it gained on him.

Chaos drummed close...too close to his ragged, woody rear. It was an odd clamor, too. The freezing scorch of fire and ice blazed and crackled his leafy ears, announcing an inevitable fate per deafening bang. The drums of his demise. He tried to gain distance, to muffle the music with drastic distance, but his fear-induced agility cracked and depleted like a fat man after a long hike.

Woe to the bushfiend, for his woody rear experienced a terrible cocktail of ice and fire!

"AAAARGH!"

If none heard a bushfiend yowl the Wilhelm Scream so loudly, they did now.

A double whammy he wished he never met. Instead of the sweet condolence and relaxation, he received a callous sting like that of a hellish freezer burn.

He failed to juke his pursuer, who singled out the poor invader of flamboyant shrieks. It was a bad series of events for this sorry fiend; a victimizer victimized. If only it were a passing nightmare.

But fiends don't have nightmares. They delivered them.

Oh how hard the tables had turned this day indeed.